


strawberry lipstick state of mind

by christinaapplegay



Series: walk through fire for you [1]
Category: Dead To Me (TV)
Genre: F/F, uh theres smut but its like not hot so just be warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:20:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24451969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinaapplegay/pseuds/christinaapplegay
Summary: Jen’s in denial, and then she’s hesitant, and then she’s saying it, spitting it out like it’s her coffee order, but it’s fine because at least it’s not a lie, at least they’re not lying anymore.
Relationships: Judy Hale/Jen Harding
Series: walk through fire for you [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1773193
Comments: 34
Kudos: 227





	strawberry lipstick state of mind

**Author's Note:**

> i like dont know what this is so bear with me here
> 
> title is from 'adore you' by harry styles

It’s something like a crush when you’re 15, and you’ve never felt your stomach twist at the sight of someone before, so you’re convinced you’re in love. 

That’s what it is, Jen decides, over vodka shots with Judy while they’re out late one night; that’s what it is when she looks over at Judy under strange bar lighting and her chest tightens with this rush that she can only remember vaguely feeling once or twice before. 

And for a few months, it works.

It’s a good way to brush it all off, to ignore hand-holding, and sitting too close on the couch, so close that it feels like cuddling, but it's not outright, not on purpose, so somehow it doesn’t count. 

It’s a good way to make it so none of it means anything. 

It works until it morphs into more than just a rush in Jen’s chest.

When it turns into Judy being who she thinks of before falling sleep, who Jen misses at night in bed, alone, who Jen realizes she genuinely loves as a co-parent, when she finds herself unable to avert her eyes when it comes to staring at Judy’s lips, into Judy's eyes and swearing there’s something there that allows her a sense of _it’s real, me too, I feel it, too,_ until it’s Judy who she starts to mindlessly imagine when she's got her hand between her legs, and it’s then, when it clicks, fully, painfully, what is happening, and she tries, desperately, to not think of Judy, in all that she does, all that she is, though it’s Judy who she naturally pictures, always. 

It’s some of the happiest moments she’s had and has collected over time, with Judy, times where her body feels like static 'cause of the mere sight of Judy, there beside her, smiling like it’s her job as they do shots, or make breakfast, or pick the boys up from school, or any other activity that should be mundane at this point for them, and though it tracks for ease, it always melds into frustration. 

And God, Jen starts to hate it. Hate it almost as much as she hates how she craves cigarettes when she’s stressed.

It’s when she thinks about fucking Judy and when days become centered around whether or not Judy’s loud, or if she’s breathy, how her body moves, do her hips rise, or do they press into the mattress, it’s at that point where it all becomes unbearable and she wishes she could crawl out of her fucking body if only for one fucking minute just to have a sense of peace. 

It’s just fucking awful. 

It’s awful the way her breathing quickens when Judy touches her in any way at all, like when Judy's about to sit down at the dinner table and grazes Jen’s shoulder, moving around her as if she’s squeezing by, even though there’s entirely enough space. It’s so harmless, in no way meant to lead to anything sexual, but, with the way Judy tends to linger her touch, sometimes Jen allows herself to wonder (and then she's sick with intense guilt for even briefly thinking about _that_ at the dinner table with her kids and the woman they see as their mom). 

Judy seems to enjoy it, how close they physically are, and Jen hopes shes not projecting because its all new, and all hot, and butterflies are actually real, Jen knows now because of that feeling in her chest that won’t let her breathe when she and Judy are in the car, when she glances over at Judy and Judy glances back, smiling, and her nose scrunches, and Jen forgets she has a showing in an hour and needs to drop Judy off first, starts driving the opposite direction of their house adding fifteen more minutes because it’s Judy who she’s thinking of all the fucking time now, and God, Jen just fucking hates it.

It would be easier if it felt wrong; if a life with Judy felt wrong. If a life where Judy shares her bed, her kitchen, her parenting responsibilities, could share her goodnight kisses and her good morning ones, too, felt anything less than right, maybe it would be easier to stop. 

And she really doesn’t want any of it to stop, at all, she wants a life where Judy is her’s and she’s Judy’s, and the boys are theirs, and they live, easily, smoothly, with no more fucking bumps in the road. 

Jen’s never been a person who seeks out physical touch, not even with Ted, though she knows she loved him, that physical connection had never been strong, not like how it is with Judy, who she cannot _not_ touch in some way. It had never been like that with Ted, she never craved touch until he wouldn’t touch her.

If Judy’s near, Jen has to stand close. If Judy’s near Jen has to touch her arm, hold her hand, lay a hand on her thigh, and eventually, it grows into an arm around her waist, around her shoulders, hands resting on Judy's thigh with fingers brushing inward, and it’s always thrilling when Judy shifts, very obviously taking a breath, and it allows for Jen to indulge in a maybe scenario, like maybe Judy wants her, too. 

Or maybe it’s not her Judy wants, maybe it’s just somebody. It feels too presumptuous to think, to think that simply because Judy leans into their touches, their embraces, that means she wants Jen, specifically. 

It’s hard for Jen to imagine Judy wanting her, and only her. Not in _a woe as me_ way, in a sense that Jen’s a few years older than Judy, and they’re so fucking different, and they both really need to be in some form of intensive therapy, because Jen’s still got anger issues, and Judy’s still a bit of a people pleaser. It’s just that Jen is well aware that Judy could have whoever she wants, she’s able to connect with people in ways Jen cannot, she’s the fucking sweetest soul Jen’s ever met, and she could easily find someone younger and hotter and a better person all around. 

In this weird way, though Judy is all she can think about, Jen almost doesn’t want it to happen. It’s an intimacy she hasn’t had in years, wonders if she’s ever had, and she’s scared, she genuinely is, she’s scared she’ll fuck it up in some way or another, like if she and Judy have sex, or even kiss, or anything in between, that every good thing they have will wash away and be replaced with the fact that they broke this barrier that is impossible to reconstruct.

And she will not let herself fuck this up, she’s got it too good with Judy at this point to do something stupid and push her away; she won’t do it for her boys' sake and she won’t do it to herself. 

She doesn’t plan it, or anything, she decides that her feelings can be placed aside and that’s how it will go because she’s good at that, she definitely can place how she feels on the backburner. It’s kind of how she’s survived this long. 

She lives like that for a while, in this life where she and Judy share a bed, a house, two kids, some bills, groceries, trading who pays for take-out, parting cheek kisses from Judy, parting hand squeezes from Jen, in this life where personal space has never been a learned behavior between them, in this life that begins to flow so well it almost feels like some alternate reality they’ve gotten mixed up in. 

It does happen, though. And it’s her doing and if she looks back she cannot fucking understand where her brain went. 

It doesn’t happen in the way Jen imagines it when it does. How she felt it’s bound to happen, it doesn’t happen when they are drunk out of their minds, and can barely see straight, are only tumbling in through their front door; it happens one night when they’re just talking, sitting on the couch again, really just discussing the day and how it went, how Jen refrained from calling a woman a fucking cunt at a showing, and Judy literally hi-fives her in response, and how Judy had to clean up a gallon of spilled paint, how it got all over her while she was on the ground, scrubbing it up, and Jen’s hand finds Judy’s thigh, and they haven’t had enough alcohol for it to be due to inebriation. 

It’s when it goes quiet, and they’re looking at each other, and Jen before she can even think about what she’s saying, is whispering, "I love you, I really do," and Judy’s smiling, saying, "I love you, too," and leaning into her, in a position they’ve perfected, Jen upright against the couch cushions, Judy leaning against her, against her chest, and Jen hugs her, tight, because it’s all she can actually think to do, and then Jen’s saying, "I think I’m in love with you," like she’s never really thought about it before but knows it’s true, and Judy only seems to try to sink closer, as if she somehow can, and says, like she's known it, "I’m in love with you, too."

And they sit with their admissions, and they sit just like that, Judy’s hand resting on Jen’s stomach, Jen’s arms around Judy, who lifts her head upwards like she’s trying to look at Jen, but ultimately can’t, and Jen almost feels nothing at all, like she’s not really there, like that didn’t just happen, and she’s almost convinced that even if it did that things will carry on like before, and she’s sorta relieved because the fear that it will shift and ruin is too much for her to grapple with. 

“Do you mean that?” Judy says it softly but it’s harsh against the quiet. 

Jen forces herself to say yes, knowing she cannot say no, cannot hurt Judy just because she’s scared; she shouldn’t have said it, but she’s not going to take it back, especially if Judy feels it, too. 

And suddenly her chest is full of adrenaline, like she’s had too much coffee, and not enough food, her grip tightens around Judy like she’s worried she'll disappear. It feels like the wrong time, like it shouldn't be happening now, she's not fully ready yet, she's still trying to deal with the way her body reacts to Judy. But, still, it feels as if she has to be honest, and has to be brave because if she’s not she’s only hurting Judy. 

If it’s happening, it’s going to be full of honesty – she and Judy are too deep in webs of lies for them to lie to each other. 

“I don’t know how to do this, or say this,” Jen says, and it comes out more emotional than she intends, like it’s a confession. “You’re like, the best fucking person I’ve ever known and I don’t want us to change, and I can’t lose you, and the boys can’t lose you.” 

Judy sits up and it starts to feel real, as if it’s actually, actually, happening, and Jen regrets it, has no fucking clue why she said it, she didn’t even think to say it, she just did, she didn’t psyche herself up or lay it out in her mind in any way, but she said it, and with the way Judy’s now looking at her, worry mixed with hesitation, it feels like she’s fucked it all up.

“It doesn’t have to be anything,” Judy says, and like she means it, that if Jen can’t do it, it doesn’t have to exist. 

And it’s such a Judy thing to do, to reassure, to say something that lessens fear. 

“It – it could be something though, couldn’t it?” Jen hates how she sounds, weak and desperate, but Judy looks at her like she’s smitten, which is a kind of cheesy Jen tends to hate, but it's the truth as far as Jen can tell. 

“It could,” Judy says nodding, and her hands find Jen’s and it’s then she realizes they’re clammy but she cannot allow herself to be too embarrassed right now. Not about her fucking clammy hands. 

“You want that?” Jen says, because it’s a confirmation she needs. “Like, actually?” 

“Yeah, actually,” Judy says and smiles lightly, then says, very rushed, "I mean, I kind of... thought that we were heading there, but I didn't know for sure, and I just... hoped, I guess. But I didn't wanna put any pressure on you." 

“I’m kind of a bitch, though, Judy,” Jen says, right away, and she in no way wants to turn it into a self-deprecation hour, but she feels like she needs to remind Judy just in case she’s forgotten, somehow. Like maybe that will set her straight. “I’m a cunt 95% of the time.” 

“Okay, first of all,” Judy says, shaking her head for a moment like she’s going to set Jen straight, “You can be... _that..._ but you’re also really kind, and generous, and funny, and a great mom, and I love you, I love who you are.” 

And God, what the fuck does she say? She wonders if Judy has felt like this the whole time, the whole of their nights spent sleeping together, spent out drinking, holding on to one another like they’ll fall off a fucking high rise building if they let go, and she doesn’t know if it makes her feel better or worse that it’s been months of them in this impossible country of uncertainty, where they both felt it but didn’t share. 

Only because it feels right, and it seems as if that's what they're going for now, because Judy looks at her like it’s what she wants, and how she’s shifted closer, close enough that with one wrong move Judy will be on her lap, does Jen lift her hand to Judy’s face, say, “Can we…” and smiles when Judy interrupts, says, "yes," and they both lean forward at the same time, Jen’s hand sliding to Judy’s neck, Judy’s hands hitting her shoulders, and it’s rough but without meaning it to be, and a little too chaste compared to what’s Jen’s pictured and before she can do anything else Judy is pulling back, and looking at her like she’s wondering if it’s still okay. 

Jen wraps her hand around the back of Judy’s neck, and nods at her, and it’s not what Jen expects, but still, she welcomes it eagerly, when Judy climbs on her lap, straddling her, in her signature fuckin’ floral dress. 

They kind of stare at each other for a moment faces inches apart, and it’s Judy who looks nervous now like she’s not sure if this _is_ right or not. Jen drops her hand, both then placed on Judy’s covered thighs, and says, “It doesn’t have to be anything, right?” hoping it reassures her, allowing her an out, allowing her a way to ease off of her and go on without continuing anything, because if Judy is anyway unsure, Jen wants her to stop.

Judy exhales roughly and it feels like a signal that it’s going to end before it even begins but Judy doesn’t move, only tucks strands of hair behind Jen’s ears on either side of her face and cups her cheeks like Jen did hers and then is kissing her. 

And kissing has always felt like a chore, something you have to do to show interest or love, but maybe Jen's just never had a good kiss before. Jen’s hands grip Judy’s dress at the thighs, and Judy opens her mouth and so Jen does, too, feeling warm, hot, very suddenly, noticing how Judy’s pressing into her, her breasts against Jen’s own, and it’s quickly a wet kiss, one that Jen has to pull away from because she needs a second to breathe. 

Judy leans her forehead against Jen’s, and they both actively breathe, slightly ragged, and Jen finds herself with a hand under Judy’s dress, her thigh hot. 

“God, your legs are smooth.” 

“Thank you, hemp lotion.” 

Jen laughs a little, “It feels weird,” she says, slightly muffled, “It feels fucking weird, doesn’t it?” And maybe it will, maybe it would for a while. 

“But not bad,” Judy says, lightly, a hand now in Jen’s hair, “right? I mean, I am kinda liking it so far.” 

And Judy kisses her, and it’s soft and gentle, everything Judy is, everything Jen feels she isn’t. 

“We can go slow. As slow as we need. It could be so slow it’s like we’re sitting in traffic on the 101.” 

“Well, fuck, maybe not that slow, Jude.”

But it sounds right. It does, and though Jen feels like she’s vibrating with want, they end there, and Judy stands, extending a hand out to Jen, saying how they should go to bed. 

“We should probably clean up first, though,” Judy says, pointing behind her and over to the kitchen. Bad night to have made a meal with like, fuckin’ thirty different kitchen appliances. 

“We can leave the dishes. Seriously, I don't care,” Jen says because she does not want to clean a mixer right now. 

Judy smirks at her, and it’s one Jen hasn’t seen before, one that feels very specific. “Someone’s eager.”

“Fuck you, I don’t mean _that_ ,” Jen says, quickly, but Judy thankfully doesn’t seem offended, “I just don’t wanna do dishes. It’s late.” 

“We have a dishwasher, we can just stick ‘em in there,” Judy says, like she’s punctuating it with _duh_. 

“God, you’re like, actually kinda normal,” Jen says, then laughs when Judy makes a face at her.

It feels anticlimactic. Months leading up to a moment that just randomly happened because Jen blurts it out and now they’re past it and yet it feels uncertain, still. 

It’s a half an hour later, a half an hour of quickly cleaning the kitchen up, exchanging fast glances, like they didn’t just briefly make out, or maybe like they did, of Jen, noticing how Judy looks at her as they get ready for bed, side by side, as if she wants her, Jen thinks, hopes. A half an hour of it before they’re in Jen’s bed, Judy easily curling up to her. And it feels the same, Jen realizes, like nothings changed. Only things have, and it's bound to show at some point. 

They talk but about nothing at all and Jen realizes she's actually tired which is a relief because she’s not sure she can just lie there with Judy and act like it’s normal. 

And when Jen yawns, Judy says for her to ride that wave and lie down and shut your eyes or else, so Jen goes to, without a word, but then Judy’s saying, for some reason, “Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” as Jen's facing opposite of her. 

“Are you the bed bug in question?” Jen says, rolling back over, and she immediately doesn’t like it because it’s not funny and it sounds really stupid as she’s saying it. 

“I can be,” Judy says confidently, like it’s all too possible, “I can bite.” 

Jen furrows her eyebrows. “Oh, Jesus, don’t say that.” 

And Judy laughs a little and says an actual goodnight, leans in to kiss her like it’s something they do every night. 

It’s as short as their earlier kisses, as soft and as brief. This time, when they part, they share a look, one that Jen can’t ignore, one where Judy’s blatantly fixated on her lips, and her hands tighten around Jen’s shoulders, and then they’re kissing again right away, and suddenly Judy is on her back and Jen’s hovering over her, a thigh falling between Judy’s legs, and a hand on her clothed stomach, and this isn’t how Jen’s ever pictured it. She’s wearing baggy flannel pajamas pants, Ted’s actually, and an old faded maroon colored t-shirt that had been demoted to sleep attire, and the boys are in their rooms, but Judy looks perfect, can’t _not_ look fucking perfect, and they fumble a bit, a lot, and they keep accidentally clinking teeth as they kiss, and when Judy pants as they separate, becomes squirmy underneath her, Jen only leans into Judy, her thigh pressing into her.

It easily elicits the reaction she wants, so she does it again, and it’s exciting, and it feels kinda like she somehow has Judy in the palm of her hands, and she only plans to take care of her, only plans to lean down again and kiss her, reach her hand up and hold the side of her face, before tentatively snaking her hand slightly up Judy’s shirt, no further than her waistline. 

Jen has a hand on Judy’s hip as they kiss and she’s not thinking about anything else other than how it feels to kiss Judy, how it’s new and uncharted and a little confusing because it’s her best friend, but it also feels right and real and Jen figures that's what matters most. 

It feels something like it will be okay. 

“Jen,” Judy says as they part, taking a breath. 

“Hm?” Jen says, and she almost interrupts, saying how beautiful Judy looks underneath her, cheeks pink and flushed. 

“You don’t have to, like at all, but if you want to, you can touch me,” Judy says, quickly and whispering, and Jen doesn’t know if she should say that she is so out of practice it’s ridiculous, that it will probably suck, and feel like weird mechanical whirring, but she also does want to, she wants to touch Judy, feel her underneath her like this. 

“Who's the eager one now?” Jen says, regretting it as soon as she says it and she scrunches her face and then says, “Ignore that, that was fucking douchey, just ignore that I said that,” and in a moment of perhaps blind confidence, she moves her hand down, slipping in under Judy’s pants, and presses her middle and ring finger against her, genuinely shocked by the dampness.

Judy huffs, her eyes flutter shut, and Jen continues to hover over her, she makes the same gesture, then asks, “What'd'you like?” 

“Circles,” she says, then adds, “please.” 

And Jen further slips her hand under Judy’s underwear, and she’s wet, and Jen’s face turns red and hot and she’s like, weirdly embarrassed, surprised that she's had any effect at all on Judy, and she experimentally drags a finger down, then slowly begins. And it’s one of those things where doing it to someone else is so much harder, so different somehow than on herself. 

Judy makes a hushed noise, one that tells Jen it’s good, and Judy nods encouragingly, so Jen continues, looking down at Judy, feeling like it’s a total fucking out of body experience to be having sex with Judy, _fucking Judy_ , her best friend. 

Her arm becomes tired way too fucking quickly, because she is like, really fuckin' out of practice, and she mostly uses a vibrator so it’s not like she has the muscle for this, and it really starts to burn but she in no way wants to stop, not when Judy starts to look like she’s actually enjoying herself, and her chest starts to rise and fall much faster, and she lets out these little puffy sighs, and she presses her head against the pillow and back, exposing her neck. Jen leans down trying her best not falter so she can kiss Judy’s neck, just to see if it’s something she likes, and she evidently does, as it makes her go _hmmm_ and Jen can tell she’s smiling. 

Jen keeps going and she’s really into it, into how Judy seems to be trying as hard as she can to be quiet, making these hushed noises, and squeezing her eyes shut. It starts to become difficult to keep a good, steady pace, and her fingers are like, slipping, which kinda boosts Jen’s ego, but she tells herself to calm the fuck down and not to get a big fucking head over it.

She shifts slightly because there’s a pain in her upper back that tells her she needs to find a better position, and in doing so she inadvertently presses hard into Judy, and she moans, actually, fully, and Jen freaks, pauses, from lying directly on top of Judy now, her free hand covering Judy’s mouth, saying, “Judy, honey,” and she’s entirely out of breath, “you have you be quiet.” 

“Sorry,” Judy mumbles, opening her eyes and looking at her, “I’m sorry.” 

And Jen continues, their eye contact then fixed, Jen's hand still slightly over Judy’s mouth, and she can feel Judy clench her jaw when she speeds up again. She wants Judy to come more than fucking anything at this point ‘cause her arm is killing her, it’s like she’s hand whisking dough or something, and before she can mentally complain again, which she shouldn’t even be because this is what she's wanted, waited for, Judy’s closing her eyes and her chest is pressing against Jen's, her hips doing the opposite, and she's coming, her own hand covering her mouth, one gripping Jen’s wrist, holding it in place, breathing heavily. And then her eyes are fluttering open and looking into Jen’s own. Judy's smiling lazily, happily, and Jen can barely breathe and she realizes how sweaty she now is but it doesn’t really matter because Judy’s flushed and her cheeks are rosy pink and Jen remembers that Judy loves her, too, and if this changes everything, if this is a glimpse at their life now, it feels something like relief. 


End file.
